


Toska

by badassspacemum



Series: 200 Years is a Long Time to Wait [1]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Action & Romance, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst and Feels, Constructive Criticism Welcome, Explicit Language, Game Spoilers, Ghoul!Nate, Ghouls, Moral Ambiguity, Multi, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Postpartum Depression, Psychosis, Rating May Change, Recreational Drug Use, Shaun is still a major prick, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, and Nate is sweetheart with lots of problems to sort through, au- spouse lives, au-nate lives, carrie is just not well situated at all okay???, i suck at summaries, i'll keep adding tags as i go along, past pregnancy, please pity me, tbh this is the first time i've published something in years
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-01-25 12:50:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12531808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badassspacemum/pseuds/badassspacemum
Summary: On a mission to find her son, Carrie finds herself confronted with a future she never could have imagined. One where there are two-headed animals around every corner, a never ending summer, and a husband who gave up hope for his family over a century ago. After 200 years and a nuclear war has passed for one, and what feels like mere minutes for the other; can they ever rekindle what was lost with the bombs?(2/10/2018: this fic is not dead, just undergoing major editing)





	1. 1

Chapter 1

 

“Why don’t I bring in Shaun later today to visit him? He could lift everyone’s spirit if we getting him laughing, love,” Carrie reasoned into the phone. “I can bring a spare pair of clothes for you, help freshen up after the last few days?”

 

“No, no it’s…” a deep sigh from the other side of the phone. “I’ll be home sometime before midday. Then we can all visit together and you won’t have to carry all that on the bus,” Nate said. “The doctor thinks dad has a couple days left so I can spare a few hours to take a shower.”

 

Carrie chewed her lip listening to her husband, tension evident in his voice. It had been building for the past few weeks since his father had his fall. They both knew it was the end for the elderly man but it had dragged on, causing Nate to be back and forth between their home and Milton General for some time.

 

Nodding mostly to herself she relented. “Alright I’ll see you in a few hours then. I’ll make sure we’re ready to go.” A hum was the only reply. “I love you, remember that.”

 

“I know darling, it’s just right now- “

 

“Don’t worry. I understand.”

 

“I love you both so much.”

 

She pressed a kiss to the receiver. “Drive safe.”

 

Placing the phone back in the cradle, Carrie rubbed her hands through her hair. Looking out into the street she saw neighbours milling around on the lazy Saturday. Mr Stevenson from the cul-de-sac drove past in his new war-bond car. Carrie huffed thinking about the slimy man and his nasty comments about Nate and herself. The narcissistic asshole even thought he’d started the trend of signing up for that vault overlooking the neighbourhood and Concord. Though she would admit, everyone _had_ followed suit once the funds could be found in each household; just never to his face. The need for it was becoming increasingly relevant as news reports continued to fuel the fear of war gripping the country. It had taken awhile for them to be able to get the places necessary for their small family on top of the mortgage they already couldn’t afford. They’d secured some of the last spots however, mostly due to Nate’s military service.

 

Carrie tried to stop herself worrying over money. She’d be returning to work in less than a month and Nate had a few job interviews coming up. They’d be fine with or without thinking about the need for vaults.

 

If the need even arose.

 

Codsworth drifted over with a steaming cup in hand. “Coffee mum? Brewed as you like it.” Taking the coffee silently, Carrie moved to the bench in the kitchen. “Did I hear correctly that sir would be returning today?”

 

“Yeah, could you get a lunch put together for him? Something warm, hospital food’s always complete crap.”

 

“Right away mum! Anything else?”

 

With a shake of her head, he whizzed away into the kitchen. Codsworth had been a gift from Nate’s parents when she’d announced her pregnancy. All alone in her and Nate’s apartment and preparing for a baby whose father was hundreds of miles fighting a war; they’d thought she might have needed the help. Fuzzy from the overwhelming emotions that had drowned her for weeks after finding out, she’d snapped, thinking they thought she couldn’t handle a baby. After apologising and bashfully accepting the Mr. Handy box, she’d realised just how much she’d needed him. A blessing in the disguise of a three-eyed robot. There wasn’t a visit since to Nate’s parents that she hadn’t both apologised again and thanked them both.

 

 A glance to the clock. 9:34am. Plenty of time to get both herself and Shaun ready. With a satisfied nod, Carrie started walking down the hall, trying not to let the coil of nerves forming in her stomach get to her.

 

Shauns cries came loudly from the nursery and she went to check on him. The baby wriggled in the blue cot, still too tiny to turn himself over, soft blue eyes filled with unshed tears. Cooing at Shaun, Carrie leaned forward to pull a black strand of hair away from his eyes and gently lifted him into her arms.

 

“Come ‘ere little guy. What’s got you in such a tizzy, huh? Mama’s here Shaun,” slowly rocking him back and forth in her arms, Carrie kept trying to soothe him. Was he hungry? He’d only eaten less than an hour ago. The soothing rocking turned to a nervous need to hold her son. She’d struggled to get used to this. Being a mother. It was never a position she’d seen herself in. There was always too much to worry about, too much to do, to think about bringing another kid into a world posed to destroy itself. Pacing in the nursey she tried to admire the amount of work Nate had given to the room to take her thoughts away. In between his first and last tour he’d arrived home to their apartment with her six months pregnant, struggling to put baby furniture together; and announced he’d bought a house up north in a new estate called Sanctuary Hills. Nate had moved them in just over a week later. With only three weeks of leave left he’d made it his goal to at least finish the nursery. The border of wallpaper lining the room, the tricycle he swore Shaun would grow into, and most recently fixing the mobile. All the love Nate couldn’t give while he’d been deployed went into the small details of their son’s nursery. Carrie felt a lump in her throat rise as she thought of Nate by his father’s bedside, keeping a sole vigil. She would have to-

 

“Mum! You should come and see this!”

 

“Codsworth? What’s wrong? Is it Nate?”

 

In the living room Codsworth stood watching the television.

 

“That is… confirmed reports of nuclear detonation in New York and Pennsylvania. My God- “

 

The buzz of static took over from the reporter. Staring at the now blank screen of the television, Carrie felt Shaun start squirming at the sound of high-pitched sirens ringing through the neighbourhood. Her mind began racing. The vault, they had to get to the vault.

“Cods- “

 

“Stay safe mum and look after the little sir, won’t you?” The robot hovered, all eyes watching her and Shaun, by the door now holding it open for their escape.

 

A nod of thanks and she began to run down the road, passing neighbours and houses and cars. Nate… There had to be vault near Milton. He could go there until they could reach each other. How long would that take though? Those pamphlets she’d read months ago said radiation fallout was lethal for over two weeks with just one bomb going off. How many had been dropped already? Would the vault even allow her to leave to reach Nate or for him to reach her?

 

Maybe this was all some elaborate, horrible drill to get everyone’s tension up. They’d been running drills for staff up and down the road for weeks. Maybe they decided to start civilian drills. They wouldn’t have broadcasted that on the news if it was a drill, so it had to be for real. What had happened that would lead to this? Anger rose bubbled in her throat as her feet slammed against concrete.

 

Over the small bridge across the stream and up the hill. A small crowd of panicked people had formed in front of a metal gate leading to the vault. Carrie pushed her way through holding onto Shaun even tighter, coming to a stop behind a man in a trench coat. He was yelling trying to get to the vault and blocking her path to enter. Wasn’t he the salesman? A soldier in power armour stepped forward, minigun revving in warning. Panicked yells from people as they stepped aside and the man quickly fled down the hill.

 

Carrie could barely get her words out as she looked past the soldier at the gate and to the vault-tec staff running around. “We need to get in! We’re on the list, the Johnston’s from Sanctuary!”

 

“Adult female, infant,” he stepped aside waving them forward with his hand.

 

Darting through the gate she saw the giant doorway leading to the vault. Glancing back, she saw people holding one another, others trying to talk their way into being allowed past like she had. A staff member shepherded her towards the entrance, the panic clear in the woman’s voice as she followed them onto the platform. Carrie fussed over Shaun’s blanket, trying to ignore her dread. They’d make it. If it really was the end she had Shaun and she’d make sure his life underground was safe. “It’s okay baby, I promise. We’ll get daddy here as soon as we can.”

 

A flash of light to the south had Carrie turning. The mushroom cloud blooming in the sky turning it a blood red, loomed over everything her eyes could see. She hadn’t expected them to be so big, though she wasn’t sure what she’d ever expected an atom bomb going off to look like. People yelled in the distance as a rush of dirty clouds began barrelling towards them. The platform lurched underneath as it started going down. Someone in a blue suit jumped onto the platform yelling. Carrie curled around Shaun as he screamed into her ears. A flush of burning air passed over them and suddenly the air was cool again.

 

Shaking Carrie opened her eyes to see everyone staring up at the closed doors above them. Her mouth felt dry as she thought of everyone trying to get down here with them…

 

The platform came to a stop in front of a large vault door. A few people in the blue vault suits milled around holding clipboards, many failing to keep the terror from their faces as they greeted her group. Looking around Carrie saw familiar faces but not the one she was desperate to see.

 

“Come on everyone, let’s get you settled into your new home. If you’ll just follow the stairs up there we can get orientation underway.”

 

In a huddle, everyone followed the directions. Shaun’s screams had abated to muffled crying as Carrie held him tight. She followed numbly at the back, taking the plastic bag holding a suit, the bright yellow ‘111’ on the back displayed clearly. Further down the hallway the doctor explained the need to be decontaminated from any radiation exposure and to make sure they could adjust to the deep vault. With a nod, Carrie turned to the imposing chamber in front of her. Putting the bag down she shuffled foot to foot thinking of where to put Shaun while she changed.

 

A small tap on her shoulder drew her attention. The middle-aged woman behind her was stout with a head of blonde curls and a friendly smile, already suited. “Would you like me to hold him dear? I doubt you want to put him on the floor to get into your suit,” she said in a thick southern accent.

 

“Um… thank you; yes I’d really appreciate that,” Carrie agreed feeling the small ball of tension ease slightly. With a kiss to his forehead, she handed him to the woman who took him with an ease that Carrie could never manage. He still fussed in her arms as she rocked him. Carrie thought she should feel a bit awkward taking her dress off in front of a room of other people but she just couldn’t find it in her to care.

 

“My two girls are in the other room with their pa. Not enough room in there for me. Luckily, we were close by when we got the news, we were planning on heading down to Fenway Park for the afternoon. Couldn’t be luckier that we were running- “

 

Yelling came from further down the hallway. The staff shifted nervously causing what tension had left Carrie to rise again. She’d zipped up the suit and was trying to button the top when the doctor started herding her towards the chamber.

 

“Wait just let me get Shaun, he- “

 

“You’ll only be apart for a few moments now, he’ll be perfectly fine,” the strain in his voice didn’t go unnoticed and she tried to push past but saw the woman in a similar situation, Shaun held tightly in the strangers’ grip. The woman sent her a reassuring smile and started to climb into the chamber and Carrie could do nothing but follow suit. Pulling herself up and turning around was awkward at best. The large door closed with the hiss of a seal. The woman across from her held Shaun’s hand up in a small wave and she couldn’t help but give a small smile and blow a kiss to them. He was only a few feet from her.

 

The chamber began to fill with a cloudy gas and her limbs became numb. She tried move her hand up but it refused to lift. The world started to fade away as a distant voice counted down to one.

 

\--------------------

 

The feeling of being plunged into a warm bath rushed over Carrie and she gasped for air, ragged coughs clawing up her throat. She blinked trying to get her eyes to focus, water droplets sticking to her eyelashes. Her muscles felt like noodles, not following her commands to get out of this thing.

 

In the small glass window a person appeared in a plastic suit, face masked. “This is the one… but I don’t see the infant.”  
  
“Are you sure it’s her?” a gruff voice asked from behind the figure.

 

“Mrs. Carrie Johnston,” she replied glancing down at something in her hand. “Admitted with her son Shaun Johnston. Husband unaccounted for. The ID photo matches, it’s her.”

 

“Well then the kid needs to be here somewhere, find him.”

 

The figure was gone and Carrie tried to move to see where they had gone. They knew about Shaun and herself, so were they with vault-tec?  The room was so different than what it was mere moments ago. There were puddles lining the floor and all the lights were off. Her mind couldn’t wrap around what was happening…

 

“Here he is.”  
  
“Get it open.”

 

Across the room the pod with Shaun and the woman opened. They were visibly shaking and even from inside her own pod she could hear Shaun fussing.  Dew dripped from their clothes.

 

“What? Are we okay?” rasped the woman between coughs. “Is everyone okay?”

 

The figure in plastic tentatively stepped forward holding their arms open. “You’re alright. Give me the baby and we’ll help you down.”

 

For a moment, it seemed she would agree but mid-motion she stopped. Her arms retracted as she looked at the people in front of her. “Are… you’re not with vault-tec?”

 

“Of course- “

 

“Why does he have a gun?! Who are you people?!”

 

The man pulled said gun from his hip and held it towards the woman aiming calmly at her. “Give us the kid. Now.”

 

“No! You can’t just- “

 

The bang of the gun was followed by screams from Carrie as the woman slumped backwards. Shaun was quickly swept away with orders from the man. He sauntered up to her as she found the momentum to slam her fists on the door. Violent anger rose in her throat as she stared at the bald man as he stepped into the blue glow from within her pod.

 

“At least we still have the backup.”  
  
The same sickly gas began to gush into the chamber as Carrie’s fists fell back to her side and her sobs froze in her throat.


	2. 2

Body connecting with metal, Carrie struggled to fill her lungs with air. The ice touch of the floor worsened her shaking. Her entire body felt damp, almost humid, right down into her lungs. The painful coughing - like a hand scratching down the back of her throat - only furthered the fuzziness in her head.

Shaun.

They’d taken him. Kidnapped him, left her here, killed a bystander. Pulling herself up onto shaky legs, Carrie stumbled to the pod, legs like noodles under her weight. Looking through the small window, it would almost look like the stranger was sleeping; if not for the hole in the middle of her forehead. Shouldn’t she be crying for the woman who’d ultimately given her life for a stranger’s child? Hers? Carrie didn’t even know her name. A weight settled in her gut; like she would be sick any moment. Turning from the pod she compelled herself to set one foot in front of the other, thinking only of her son, lost and in the hands of a killer.

\-----------------------------

The landscape around her seemed to be filled with death. Charred trees, devoid of any leaves. All Carrie could see for miles was a mottle of brown and grey. The awkward weight of the newly acquired pip-boy on her wrist was accompanied by the nagging feeling on her fingertips of the dust and grime that had settled on the bones she picked up the pip-boy from. How long did it take for a body to become a skeleton? Nothing seemed to make sense anymore.

Carrie found it hard to swallow as she meandered down towards home. Thoughts overwhelmed her as she stepped through the creaking, rusted gate. One she had run through what only felt like ten minutes ago. Scattered around her feet were skeletons that she carefully toed around to avoid stepping on. 

Forcing images of crying couples, families pleading, hands gripping one another as they died in a fiery blast right where she stood; Carrie knew she needed to focus. Shaun. Find him. Save him.

It drove her over the small bridge and between houses so familiar into a road so drastically different. 

A storey-high makeshift wall was erected in the middle of the street with a gap dead centre. Turrets stood either side of the entryway, each chugging like an old car engine. Pieces of laminated metal from the homes of Sanctuary were hammered into wood pieces, mattress frames slotted between planks here and there. An oil lantern hung above the entry, shining light onto the darkening street as what seemed to be sunset approached.

A lump forming in her throat, Carrie was at a loss. Should she go in like she’d planned, scavenge what was left? Or just cut her losses and walk away? Her fingers dug into the thick material of her vault suit. Knowing indecisiveness would get her nowhere, Carrie walked to her old home takin in the sights. 

It was obvious it had survived a nuclear bomb. The metal was rusted, vines and dirt clinging to the panels; the dark roof covered in tarps or planks of wood. Yet the glass in the windows while dirty and cracked, remained intact. So, it was lived in and cared for by someone.

A face with blue eyes and a crooked smile flashed into her mind. The only person she would want to find in this wreck of a wasteland. 

The house opposite, old lady Rosa’s, was in similar disrepair. A mess of boxes on shelving lined the car port. A patch filled with crops stood between the yellow house and the fence line, separated from the pavement by chicken wire. Even what was alive and growing had a sickly brown tint to it. A breeze drifted helping to cool Carrie’s clammy skin.

“As I live and breathe! It’s REALLY you!”

Pivoting around Carrie saw the frantic Mr. Handy whizzing towards her. “Codsworth? Oh god, what happened?”

All three of Codsworths’ eyes were focused on her. “To the world, mum? Well I believe it was all due to that nasty business with the bombs all that time ago. You must be absolutely famished! You’re well over two-hundred years late for dinner!” Codsworth’s amusement only added to Carrie’s confusion.

“Two-hundred years…”

“Well 210 if my calculations are correct mum.”

Everything felt hazy as Carrie struggled to keep her legs from buckling. Her home, her life, her family… gone. Stuck in a decaying vault for two-hundred years. Unable to do anything as her son was taken, as years passed. If wishing was enough to make something happen, she would have woken up in Nate’s arms in a warm bed to Shaun crying in a world without bombs. Yet when her eyes opened to look back at Codsworth, the everything was still dead.

If this much time had passed from when the bombs dropped, how much had passed since Shaun had been taken?

“You’re looking quite unwell Miss Carrie; shall I accompany you inside? Maybe a break from the lad will do you some good. Where is young Shaun by the way?”

The words spilled from her lips, her baby’s screams echoing in her head. “They… they took him. I don’t know who- but I need to get him back, I need to…” The rest of her sentence caught in her throat, the clutter of emotions that had been building flooded her eyes with tears that stung. As they spilt onto her cheeks, Carrie leaned onto the wall of her front door. Sirens and screams she remembered filling this street with panic, all silenced two-hundred years ago.

“Mum, these things you’re saying; maybe I could be of some assistance in searching for Shaun? If he truly has been taken then maybe sir could help too?”

Shaking her head Carrie slumped onto the front steps, head falling to rest on her arms. “No, no, no he’s… he’s gone Codsworth. He wasn’t with us- “

The robot floated closer to the ground as his limbs waved around excitedly. “Of course he wasn’t! Sir has been living with myself and others here in Sanctuary for the better part of the last two-hundred years!” His last words almost came out as a chuckle. “He will be so delighted to see you have finally come home Miss Carrie.”

Carrie’s body froze. Looking up into Codsworths eyes her mind stumbled over itself. Nate- alive? “How could he be alive after two-hundred years?” she retorted.

“Mutation of course mum! Or as he likes to call it- 'ghoulification',” another chuckle. “For well over two-hundred he looks far better than expected. Though you far surpass him mum.”

“Where is he then? Is he here in Sanctuary?” Hope bloomed carefully in her chest, but Carrie still found herself drawing in on herself. It seemed very unlikely that Codsworth would lie about something like this; but how could Nate survive a nuclear war let alone all this time?

Codsworth spun around and leaned in to her. “Sir often goes on expeditions into the wastes to find bits and bobs to tinker with. He left over four weeks ago if I recall, he said something about being home within a month.”

Carrie twisted the ring on her finger, watching as her red nails gripped the metal. “Is there any way I can contact him? Let him know I’m here?”

“I’m afraid that all telecommunications went down the bombs mum; and sir doesn’t have a radio with him.”

Leaning back into the doorframe Carrie watched the sky, trying to think. She knew she couldn’t go running into a new world without help. The oversized cockroaches were hard enough to handle as it was. Nate was coming home, so she’d wait. If what Codsworth said was true, then he’d waited for longer for her. Her stinging eyes struggled to stay open.

“Is… is our bed still in the house?”

Codsworth perked up as she spoke and his arms whizzed wildly. “Why of course! Sir has kept the house very meticulously if I do say so! With help from yours truly of course.”

Getting to her feet, Carrie faced her front door, orange paint only just clinging to the wood panels. Opening it she saw how much had stayed the same, and how much had changed. The same red couch, same blue kitchen, same table and chairs in the corner. But the clutter that filled the room, was out of place. Candles lit the room up showing the bookcase filled with odds and ends she’d never seen before. Everything shared the same decayed look. Breath caught in her throat, Carrie wanted to cry as she saw the same clock from their first apartment still hung above the broken television.

She could have stayed and sorted through everything in the room but the shaking in her legs told her she needed to sleep. Or at least to lay down and think everything over. The hall was in similar disrepair with all the doors closed off. The laundry door had a heavy lock attached. 

As she drifted past Shaun’s room, she remembered that morning. His cries drawing her in to love him, comfort him. How small he looked in his crib. 

Her tears became sobs as she pushed past, trying to convince herself that he could still be behind that door, sleeping after having his dinner; maybe even Nate reading him a story. 

Pulling open the door, she barely took in the room before she collided face first into the bed. She curled into herself, as she shook. 

Her thoughts were drawn to Nate as she lay sobbing. The sweet, crooked smile he had, how it always crinkled his right eye more. His freckles covering his face like constellations. How she lay in this room tracing them with her fingers after his return; how that deep laugh would rumble through his chest as her finger tickled across his cheek.

He’d come home once to her, hurting and broken.

So all she could do was hope beyond everything that he could do it again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short, I know. I just wanted to get what I'd managed to write out. Hope you enjoyed either way. Cheers.


	3. 3

 

 

“So, what do you think?” Nate spun around, arms swinging above his head with the sort of happiness that had been missing when he’d first arrived home. The crinkle of his eyes and nose washed away the worries sitting at the bottom of Carrie’s gut. “Pretty great huh? Got a terrific deal on it too because I’m serving, so you won’t have to worry about anything while I’m gone.”

 

Carrie stood in the doorway to the blue house that Nate had announced was their new home. The street was like an ad for suburbia; every lawn was a deep green, white picket fences, kids in the street followed by happy dogs as they played in bright sunshine. All it needed was a jingle and a dance number. The room devoid of furniture felt like a mansion after their apartment with just enough room to walk around. Looking at her husband, his excitement was contagious and she was soon giggling like a child as he danced around the kitchen. “Just imagine all the gorgeous food that Mr. Handy can make in a kitchen like this!”

 

“It’s amazing hon, really,” Carrie agreed with a shake of her head. “How about you give me your grand tour, huh?”

 

His grin only grew with her approval. Moving room to room, Nate explained his ideas for each one. A new bed for their room, pictures in the hallway, a rocket themed room for the baby, maybe even lawn chairs in the backyard. In the bathroom, Carrie found herself staring at the mirror, Nate leaning into her back. His hands lay on hers as she folded them over her swollen stomach. They watched each other for a few moments. The speckle of freckles across his face were less defined than before his deployment. Dirty blonde hair, now cropped of thick curls, was dull in the light. His eyes though, a blue that she found incomparable to anything else, were almost unchanged. The hope he had for their family gave Carrie a sense of purpose in the next few months. He’d finish his next two tours and they could raise their child here. See him grow up, read him his first bed time story, watch him go to school, even give him a sibling to play with; or maybe just a dog. They’d be happy.

 

She hummed as Nate pressed a gentle kiss to her neck. They could do this.

 

 

Each flicker of the candle cast unnatural shadows across Carrie’s face. She watched the ways it contorted its shape in the mirror. Smudged remnants of makeup were smeared on her face, the red around her lips giving a malicious look to her face. Codsworth had placed a bucket of water next to the old sink. Each stroke of the hairbrush helped her feel a little more human, pulling out the remnants of hairspray from the black waves.

 

Every second that passed she hoped to feel those familiar arms wrap themselves around her, be pulled into his chest. The feeling of waking alone in her room, without the whimpers of Shaun from the next room, or the sound of coffee brewing, had swallowed the peacefulness of the early morning. Half-staring; half-glaring at herself, Carrie was unsure on what to do. If what Codsworth said was true then Nate could come home. How long would that take? Whoever had taken Shaun was getting further away from her with him. Yet she couldn’t just go out into a post-apocalyptic world without help. Where would she even start? She let out a frustrated scream, throwing the brush against the bathtub sitting in the bathroom.

 

Looking at Shaun’s bedroom door, she couldn’t find the courage to look into the room. So early in the morning he would still have been asleep in another world. Safe, knowing he was loved and being cared for. It would just be an image she couldn’t cope with now; the tenderness developing in her breasts was enough of a reminder that he wasn’t here. The anger swelling in her chest left her feeling numb. Codsworth buzzed around in the rusty kitchen, so similar to that morning. He pulled dishes down from cabinets and opened a crumpled box of pastries.

 

“Good morning miss Carrie! I hope you found your old room enjoyable? I’ve prepared some breakfast for you, unfortunately we don’t have anything fresh in the house at the moment.”

 

She studied the pastries. Where they… Fancy Lads? How many preservatives were in these things if they’d lasted this long? Her stomach protested at the lack of food, so she sat at the counter, staring at the frosting on top. As she ate she listened to Codsworth.

 

 “I will admit, I was quite surprised you weren’t woken last night mum. There was quite a hubbub from Concord what with all the gun shots. Luckily you seemed undisturbed by all the racket!”

 

Mid-bite Carrie stared at him. “There are people in Concord?”

 

“Of course!” the ever-enthusiastic robot replied. “Settlers come and go from the area quite regularly. Mostly due to the buildings still standing mind you.”

 

Pushing away her plate, Carrie watched his eye-stalks closely. “Do you know if there could be someone willing to help me?” If she could just find someone to guide her around, she could get a head start on looking for Shaun. Someone would have had to of seen two people so distinct. Especially carrying a young baby around.

 

A mechanical hum. “I am unsure, perhaps; but wouldn’t it be better to wait for sir?”

 

Stiffening, Carrie tried not to sound malicious. “Like you said, he’s late. I can’t… Shaun’s out there Codsworth. He needs me I can’t just sit here and wait- Nate might not even be coming home! I don’t know what to think all I know is that Shaun’s in danger.”

 

And she was going to get him back. With or without help. If she was going to head out then she’d need supplies. Concord was only ten minutes down the road. Simple trip, one she’d taken hundreds of times. Deep breaths. “Codsworth, is there any way you could find a bag for me to carry some stuff in?” With a chirpy reply, he floated to the laundry and unlocked the door, presenting her with a short duffle bag. Nodding in thanks, she looked into the small room. The back all held shelving, every surface in use. Tins of water, packs of food, a few crates tucked underneath only labelled ‘Ammo’ and ‘Loot’. Unzipping the bag she began filling it up with the essentials she would need.

 

 

Over the bridge, past a corpse and what she assumed was a dog… zombie dog? Dead zombie dog. She’d scrounged together more ammo from the man’s pockets which was handy. Though she left the makeshift gun beside him, worried it might backfire in her hands. She hoped he wasn’t from Concord, if the residents there were dead she was back to square one.

 

Barking caught her attention as she passed the Red Rocket. She gripped her pistol tighter as she expected another zombie dog to jump out, ready to fight or run home. Instead a fluffy Shepard ran to her feet, tail wagging wildly. Carrie couldn't help but give a small smile as she held her hand out to test the waters. He gave her a small lick and another yip vying for her attention.

 

“Huh, bit of a mutt, aren’t you? Come on then buddy, company is always welcome.”

 

 

“Fuckfuckfuckfuc- Oh my fucking god! Why are they shooting at us?!”

 

Another bullet hit the brick wall Carrie was crouched behind. Her heart was trying to break free from her chest, she was sure she’d have a heart attack and drop dead well before any of these psychopaths shot her. The dog had run off into the distance a while ago, followed by a shrill scream. The man on the balcony was still firing shots at the attackers. This hadn’t been what she’d planned and she wanted to run back to Sanctuary with her tail between her legs. It was a nightmare out here. She was still reeling from the sight of a dead two-headed cow in the middle of the road, never mind the giant bugs feeding from it.

 

She was so bloody stupid for coming out her _. Pathetic_.

 

She was a housewife goddammit, not a soldier like Nate. Carrie had never even held a gun until the afternoon before in the vault. Fuck. She needed to skirt around these maniacs. Ducking through the alleyway near the old pharmacy was easy; so was walking down the back street to get to the old church. A woman dressed in leather armour and a hood over her head came around the corner ducking from the bullets. She spotted Carrie and didn’t move for a moment. Lowering her gun Carrie tried to ask what was going on when the woman charged at her with a tire iron. Flinching away two bullets unloaded from the gun into her attacker’s chest, three others missing. Carrie could only stare as she fell backwards, head cracking against a wall as she went down. A few gurgles and her chest stopped moving. Oh god she’d killed someone, she’d-

 

“Hey! Up here on the balcony!”

 

Turning to stare up at the man who’d been picking people off one by one, he was waving at here. “I’ve got a group of settlers inside. The raiders are almost through the door. Grab that laser musket and help us! Please!”

 

The shakes of her hands had Carrie struggling to pick up the musket. She studied it for a moment, she’d never seen anything like it before. She picked up what looked like ammo. Where did it-

 

A bullet shattered the lantern next to her leg. Carrie let out a shrill scream as she pulled open the door to the old museum, that dog darting between her feet and into a hallway to her right. She wanted to fall to the ground and cry. For the third time that day. She kept hoping that she’d wake up from whatever hellish nightmare she was having, but wasn’t willing to take a bullet to test if she’d wake up. Gripping the musket tightly to her chest, she followed him slowly, watching the men above her as they fired up. This was bad, very bad. Why was she doing this? If she got killed here no one would know to search for Shaun, only Codsworth. Nate might not even believe him if he ever returned. No one would be surprised if a 200 year old robots’ wires started coming loose. Sneaking further down the hallway was simple. Facing a raider in a dark room was the last thing she wanted.

 

The man lunged at her pulling back his gun to hit her across the face. Her mouth filled with blood as a tooth dislodged, her cheek throbbing in time with her heart. Weakly putting her hands in front of her face she tried to protect herself from another hit but saw him point the gun directly at her head. Tears slid down her face as she screamed out only for the man’s own screaming to join her own.

 

Teeth embedded in his calf, the dog dragged him off her, lunging forward and tearing at his throat. His screams faded as the blood flowed from his neck, soaking Carrie’s legs in the hot liquid. The dog seemed to be staring at her as she pushed herself up, feeling the bile rise in her throat before she vomited next to the corpse. Shreds of flesh stuck to the dogs’ muzzle and lay scattered by his paws. He softly grabbed the arm of her suit and tugged. Legs uncooperative, Carrie stumbled to her feet staring at the mess.

 

She- she had to keep moving. If she’d made it this far she could do it. Walking up the stairs she passed a cooler with a skull next to and felt the urge to vomit all over again. The glint of the blade in the pale light has her picking it up. If someone was on top of her again she’d be ready.

 

Her gun soon ran out of ammo after shooting magazines - not so much into the aggressors she aimed at, rather the general vicinity around them – and not knowing which ones to use to reload it. So, she turned to the knife. It felt sturdy in her hand. Crouching down next to a door frame she could hear two men arguing. Legs unsteady her shoulder bumped the door, the men now calling out for whoever was behind it to show themselves. Holding her breath, she crouched there. The door pushed open and footsteps were rounding-

 

Thrusting the knife deep into his throat Carrie felt his weight collapse into her body as he died. The other man pulled his gun out only for Carrie to run at him, knife pushing upwards into his ribs. He went tumbling backwards and over the edge of the balcony; coming to a rest three storeys down. Each shaky breath leaving her helped remind her that she was alive, hurting all over, but alive. Not looking at the body below she faced the door that these raiders had been trying to get through.

 

Opening the door, her hands leaving blood on the knob, she was confronted by the man from the balcony pointing his musket at her. She stared at him and was met with the same look. She knew she must look a sight. A random woman with a vault suit half off and hanging around her waist, blood coating her hands and the knife she wielded. The pistol shoved into the waistband. Tears, blood and grime mixing on her face.

 

He seemed happy enough to see she wasn’t opening fire though, and lowered his gun. “Man, I don’t know who you are but your timing is impeccable. Preston Garvey, Commonwealth Minutemen.”

 

 “Carrie Johnston, pleasure to meet you.”

 

 

Helping a bunch of helpless civilians seemed noble enough to push aside the guilt of all the bodies littering the street around her, even as she tried to reason she was only a civilian herself. But she fully questioned the nobility of it as the monstrosity from the sewer bore down on her. It was huge. Even in the scavenged power armour from the verti-bird, it towered over her. Taking shelter in the buildings she took shots at the demon running around trying to get to her. The minigun seemed to have little effect on it.

 

She was definitely going to die, but the adrenaline pumping through her veins prevented her making a break for Sanctuary. Another claw swiped through a window and she continued firing at it. A finger was torn off its hand and it howled in rage, furiously lashing out in the street.

 

It had swiftly dispatched the raiders which she was at least thankful for. Preston was joining in with the laser musket, safe up on the balcony.

 

It turned away from her and ran past the church. Roars and other noises echoed down the road and faded into the distance. Knowing full well it could return, Carrie took a moment to situate herself. Removing her helmet, she gasped in the fresh air. The rusty helmet smelt horrible which could only be expected of something exposed to two centuries worth of weather. Soft cries caught her attention and she saw the dog – Dogmeat he’d been called- crying in the street. Taking a moment to pull a stimpack from her side she ran over to him.

 

“Shh, shh, you’re alright boy come on,” she depressed the needle into his neck, lifting him into her arms. “Let’s get you into the store.”

 

 “Carrie! 11’oclock!” Prestons’s warning came too late as she saw the monster barrelling down the road towards them. Cursing to herself she began sprinting towards the nearest shelter. It was fast though and Carrie’s muscles strained with every movement. It swiped at her legs knocking her onto her side. All the air in her lungs disappeared as she saw Dogmeat struggle to get up to help her; his back leg hanging strangely. Preston was yelling from above and Carrie felt hot tears run down her face as she crawled towards the minigun lying were she’d left it. Debris and dust was flung at her as the thing got closer.

 

Shaun was going to be stuck with those people. She wouldn’t make it out of here, wouldn’t save her baby. She wouldn’t be able to see if Nate really was alive-

 

A chunk of concrete hit her face, blood streaming from her cheek. Her cries echoed around her as she grasped onto the handle of the minigun, fingers reaching for the trigger.

 

The monster grabbed her by the leg and yanked, pulling her under its body. Excruciating pain shot through her pelvis and her screams only grew louder and desperate. Every jostle only worsened the hot burning in the area. Carrie held on tightly to the gun and whipped it across the creatures’ face causing it to stumble violently. Another well aimed shot from Preston had it rearing onto it’s back legs bellowing in its own pain.

 

 Carrie aimed as her vision blurred, pointing directly to its stomach. The movement of the minigun as it shot at the thing jolted her body, moving her backwards along the road. Its vicious writhing ceased as it fell to the ground, moaning pitifully as it bled out. From her own similar position she could see Preston cheering on the balcony. Dogmeat crawled over to her whining into her neck, nudging her to get up. She wanted to, god did she beg her body to get up, but she couldn’t feel her leg through the pain.

 

Shaun… She couldn’t leave him. Not like this. _Useless_. Not even able to save him.

 

“Oh lord, Carrie! Sturges come help me!”

 

Prestons words were fuzzy as she stared at the sky above her. Like their eyes. Black dots floated in her vision as felt her own grip on reality move in rolling waves.


	4. 4

The quiet compression of a stimpack into her leg had Carrie shifting fitfully. Struggling to focus on the person above her, she tried to turn away. Her entire body felt wrong, an odd weightlessness like she was drunk; numb. The whispers above her were muffled and she struggled to fight back the haze clouding her mind. A hand held down her shoulder preventing her from moving. Carrie knew she was crying but could do little to stop herself. The thought of that monstrosity coming back was enough to have her stomach rolling.

 

 Someone was hushing her… Preston? That was his name, right? Carrie stared up at him groggily. Lord she just wanted to sleep; but the tapping on her cheek was just too much of an annoyance. She twisted herself away from the hand, opening her eyes, obeying the command given.  _He_  was standing with her now. Saying something.

 

He leaned casually on the wrecked car, a grin plastered on his face. Thick curls she’d run her fingers through so many nights spilled across his forehead, almost covering his eyes. Gently cradled in his arms was the familiar blue bundle of blankets. Shaun’s hands were reaching up, grasping at dog tags.

They were perfect.

Untouched by their fates. Her boys. Reaching out to him with her hand she saw the way her hand shook and trembled, barely above the ground despite her effort. He was saying something to her. Nate turned away from her before walking down the street and past the old museum. No, no he couldn’t leave her again. Not again. Not now. Her chest clenched, something building in her. Why wasn't he here? Why was he gone? She needed him and he was gone, leaving again.

 

A sharp sting in her arm caused her to cry out again. The haze clouding her head only grew worse though. What were they doing? Her boys needed her. They were gone. She needed them. Firm hands held her down as she fought to get up but her limbs grew weaker.  Everyone was yelling now. Arguing. Unable to make any sense of it, Carrie stared up at Preston. He was staring down at her, lips moving. He shifted on his feet and put his arms under her back and knees. As his hand wrapped around her left leg, screaming pain ripped up her leg. Carrie thrashed in his arms, wanting him to stop the pain. He was apologising but he didn’t stop. He hoisted her into his arms and the pain only grew worse. Everything was fuzzy as he began moving, lights shimmering above her. Wrong, so wrong. It hurt so much.

 

Every movement Preston made was agony. Carrie’s mind was beginning to catch on to the situation. How badly had that thing injured her? Why was she here at all? Carrie's mind felt foggy; like the world around her was some strange apparition or dream she'd conjured. Yet all her senses screamed at her, tugged, and ripped at her brain telling her it was real. She didn't want to think. She just wanted this to stop.

 

It wasn’t until the familiar sound of Codsworths’ accent that she dared open her eyes again. He was frantic, buzzing and humming, accusing. The high walls surrounding the small piece of Sanctuary were a welcome sight. Safe. Home. The sting of another stimpack in her hip couldn’t draw any reaction.

 

When she could finally find it in herself to open her eyes, Carrie was staring at her old worn ceiling. Planks of metal and wood nailed into it. Different. A sigh escaped her chapped lips. Had she slept? She couldn’t tell if she had but she wanted to sleep again. The weariness an ache in her bones, but knew more sleep wouldn’t achieve much. Shifting herself into an upright position caused sharp, radiating pain in her hip. She was still trying to find any form of comfort when Codsworth slid open the door beside her and poked an eye stalk in.

 

“Oh mum! I’m so glad to see you’re awake! How are you feeling? After the nasty injuries you came back with I wouldn’t be surprised if you were sore for quite some time.”

 

Leaning back into the pillows she winced again as her side ached. “How long was I out for?”

 

“Not very long at all Miss Carrie. I’d say just over three hours. Mr Garvey said they had given you med-x to stop yourself from thrashing around too much,” as he talked, Codsworth placed a glass of water on the table. His voice wavered as he explained. “Mrs Long seems to be quite proficient with medical care luckily!”

 

Shuffling to the side Carrie could see the sun setting above the walls and roofs of Sanctuary. She’d have to thank the small group for bringing her back here. It would have been easy for them to have left her in Concord and just focus on themselves. She doubted people still left ‘Thank You’ cards. God, what was she thinking rushing into the street like that? Turning her attention to Codsworth she noticed how closely he was watching her, hovering far closer than usual. “You alright Codsworth?”

 

His eyes zoomed in on her, quivering as they stared at her. “It was awful! When Mr Garvey appeared with you in his arms I was so sure I had lost you again mum! And sir, he… never would have been able to- “

 

Her chest throbbed dully, a lump in her throat as she watched out the window. “I- I know,” every word was a struggle. “I didn’t- I’m so sorry Codsworth I should have thought but- oh god.” Carrie tried to contain the flood of emotions that muddled her head. A jarring sob worked up her throat. “I’m such a- a fucking moron Codsworth! I’m so sorry!” Now that the tears had spilt onto her face, all the grief and fear bottled inside her came with them. She’d fucked up, she knew that; the pain that coursed through her body was enough indication to know how close she had come to dying. Now it felt as though she was suffocating. The world around her squeezing, draining her body. Wrong. Different.

 

The touch on her knee made her look up. Preston knelt beside the bed, hand resting on her knee, his dark eyes watching her carefully. The small comfort of his presence allowed Carrie to take a few shuddering breaths and calm her sobbing into muffled cries. He shifted on his feet slightly a gentle smile on his face.

 

“You alright there?” voice timid, asking but unsure if she wanted to answer him.

 

Carrie met his eyes. The guilt shadowing them was hard to hide, flitting between herself and the floor. The wince she made as she shifted again was mimicked by Prestons own shoulders as he stared. “How much did you hear before?” Each word was its own breath as Carrie struggled to calm her breathing, hiccups distorting her voice.

 

“A majority of it. Look, I had no idea… most people who travel by themselves out here are pretty good fighters,” he explained softly, each word chosen carefully. “I half expected you to take the musket and make a break for it and leave us. Can’t say I would have blamed you, it was a tight spot. I wish I hadn’t dragged you into our fight but- “

 

He shouldn’t have dragged her into that mess. Every throb of pain she felt across her body, gave fuel to the anger thrashing inside her chest. She’d had to kill someone- multiple people in the end. Yet she knew it wasn’t his fault. They were trapped by people who didn’t care; Preston did. It wasn't him she was angry at. Now it was Carrie who placed her bruised hand over Preston’s. She bit back the harsh words that wanted to rise in her throat like bile, instead offering him a meek smile and softer words. “I chose to run in there Preston. I made the decision to help you all and while it was rash, I don’t think I’ll regret it.”

 

A fraction of tension left his shoulders as he cracked a smile on his brooding face. “We were damn lucky to have you there. There’s no way the day could have been saved if it was just me. Thank you.”

 

“You’re welcome… I’ll admit; Dogmeat did most of the fighting,” her weak attempt at least garnered a laugh. “Can… I ask you a question Preston?” He nodded. “Is everyone out there like those guys? Trying to kill anyone they see?”

 

Carrie’s fingers twisted together, picking at the remnants of nail polish. Preston seemed taken aback for a moment before his eyes followed her movements. Glancing back at her face, he cleared his throat. “I know the vault suits a bit of a giveaway to where you came from, but how long have you been out? Your robot was saying this is you and your husband’s home.”

 

Unsure of how to answer, she tossed up her options. Carrie could just be bluntly honest, explain in detail the vault, but who would believe something that ridiculous even if it was true? She could hardly believe that yesterday's reality was now 200 years ago. Lying was always an option but Codsworth wouldn’t be reliable in keeping her cover, especially seeing how she didn’t know what he’d already told them. Preston’s expectant gaze reminded her she had to reply with something.

 

“Yeah… yeah, it was my home. I only left the vault yesterday. Everything happened… quickly. My husband, Nate, he’s been here for a while,” treading on thin ice, Carrie tried presenting the truth to Preston with as few details as possible. “I don’t know where he is right now.”

 

“Shit, only fresh out of a vault and running into situations like that already? You’ve got guts Carrie, I’ll tell you that.”

 

Carrie huffed. “Nate always did say I found trouble a bit too easily.”

 

“Heh, I can see that. To answer your question though? A lot of people rely on brute force to survive out here. For most of them, it’s how they were raised. It’s dangerous as hell out there but there are still plenty of folks making an honest living and trying to make the Commonwealth a safer place.” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “Gives you a lot of hope for the future.”

 

She could tell there was more, but the tired ache settling into her muscles took her mind away from it. The more she talked to Preston, the calmer her emotions became. He seemed genuine in his endeavours and hadn’t lead her astray thus far. “Can I ask a favour Preston? Please?”

 

“I think after all you’ve done for us today, you deserve more than a favour.”

 

“The reason I was in Concord today was because I was looking for help. I’m looking for someone. My son, Shaun,” the words became thick in her throat as Carrie turned her eyes to the patched quilt on her bed. “Someone took him from the vault. I- I couldn’t do anything to stop them. He's just a baby. I need to find someone to show me how to get around the Commonwealth.”

 

Preston sat on the edge of the bed, giving her knee a squeeze.  “I’m sorry to hear that Carrie. I’d be more than happy to help you out.”

 

“Thank you, Preston, really. I just… can’t wait for my husband to get home to start looking. I have no idea how much of a head start they have on me and…” They could have taken him anywhere by now.  With a day already gone they could have left the Commonwealth and gone anywhere.

 

“I promise we’ll head out as soon as you’re good to go. Everything is secure here on the home front so we don’t need to worry about the others; if it’s alright that we can all take a small chunk of Sanctuary for ourselves?”

 

Carrie chuckled. “’Course, you’re all more than welcome to bunk in the house across the road. Though I have no idea what’s inside it. It’s the least you all deserve. You know what though?” Preston hummed. “If you get me some more pain relief, there’s a few boxes of Fancy Lads Codsworth has in it for you too.”

 

* * *

 

  

Marcy’s loud proclamations of annoyance while caring for Carrie did little to help the swings in her mood. While confined to bed rest she had little opportunity to explore the cupboards and drawers in the bedroom let alone the rest of Sanctuary. Half the time she felt like she could ignore the post-apocalyptic world outside her four walls; until someone came in covered in grime and nuclear dust, or Codsworth with two hundred years of rust clinging to his joints, or the fact that there were only two radio stations she could listen to; one of which sounded like it was being run by a teenage boy who hadn’t hit puberty. Preston had told her there were spare mattresses and a generator already running in the other house so they were able to all find a place to kip for the night. Everything in Sanctuary seemed to be in working order for the most part, and Sturges and he were taking rotating shifts guarding the front gate near her home. It was still all different however, no matter how comfortable the others seemed to be. It shouldn't be them occupying the house, it should Ms Rosa and her cat leaving the lights on and playing the radio too loud. It was different, and her heart refused to accept that she couldn't reverse what had been done.

 

Yet the constant reminder that her previous life was lost wasn’t the ratty curtains or the dirty windows, cracked and scratched, or even the lack off familiar neighbours; but rather the leaking of milk from her breasts. Her body ached to have her baby with her again as much as her heart did. Carrie was at loss as what to do. No one had told her what to do if she suddenly stopped feeding Shaun as it was a situation she never expected. Three days after Concord, Carrie asked her grumbling carer. Marcy’s stiff façade left momentarily when asked, calmly nodding instead of replying snappily, suggesting tight binding through the day and night. It was the only time Marcy hadn’t made a snide comment to Carrie during a visit since meeting her. It may have unnerved her if she wasn’t so grateful for something to help. The way Marcy helped was gentle, something hiding behind a softer face.

 

Healing took longer than she expected. The injured hip still felt wrong to stand on. Marcy stood her ground and refused to allow Carrie more than a few steps from her bed for the first few days. It would have been a lie to say the older woman wasn’t intimidating. But the fifth day Carrie was told she could leave her bed if supervised. She never thought she would miss the overly sterile hospitals and robotic doctors until she was left with only Marcy’s care. On one of Preston’s visits to her room he had promised to teach her to shoot before they hit the road.

 

“A necessary skill if we’re going to find your boy out there.”

 

Mama Murphy had even stopped by once to provide an ominous clue that she should head for a place called Diamond City. Preston wasn’t as quick to dismiss her claim as Carrie was, agreeing it would the best place to start. A loud argument between the two about ‘chems’ from the street entertained Carrie for the evening.

So, he had decided for her that the Boston ruins would be there first port of call on the road ahead.

Lying in her old room had left Carrie too many hours to think about what she would do when she found Shaun. Images of holding her squirming baby growing up in this wasteland rather than the world she had left sat unwell with her. She’d hounded Codsworth as to whether Shaun’s nursery was decent for her to bring her baby home to. He’d assured her that Nate had kept it in “tip-top shape” for the past two centuries.

And that was another question that plagued her. What had happened to her husband? Codsworth seemed adamant he would be home soon. She often allowed herself to cry into Dogmeat’s scratchy fur as she begged herself to either wake up from this nightmare realm or for Nate to come home to her. Carrie knew she wasn’t made for this sort of world. More than once it had passed her mind about whether she should have been the one shot in that vault.

 

* * *

 

 

 Five days after having her leg almost dislocated by the deathclaw, Carrie ventured from her room for the first time with the supervision of Preston and Marcy. It was nice to stretch her leg out even if it felt somewhat tender; but she refused to let her watch dogs know that. In the street she saw Jun and Sturges tinkering with a gun, Sturges pointing to different bits as Jun nodded along. Mama Murphy sat in a chair watching over their small stretch of road, Dogmeat laying at her feet, happily watching the humans. Struggling to lift the bad leg, Carrie grabbed onto the nearest seat to steady herself. Falling face first into her floor and breaking her nose was the last thing she wanted with the gash on her cheek still scabbed over. 

Preston came to her aid. Holding onto his arm it took a moment for her to steady herself, leg wobbling. Carrie looked to Marcy. "Is there anything I can use as a crutch? I've got no balance on a good day but with this," she nodded her head towards her leg, glaring at it. "I've got no hope of walking around."

Crossing her arms, Marcy gave a disgruntled nod. "I'll see what Sturges can do." Even as she left the room the icy bite of her presence remained. Preston almost looked sheepish as he helped her down into the chair.

"It'll only be a matter of time before it's back to normal. You did a real number on it, you're lucky it's healed this well so far."

Slumping into her chair, Carrie let out a grumble too similar to Marcy's for her own liking. With a quick smile Preston sat with her as they waited. An easy silence settled. It was simple for Carrie to see what was the same about her living room. The fireplace, glass now cracked, bare thread couches she'd picked out herself, even her old law degree in it's pride of place on the bookshelf. But it was even simpler to see what was different. Holes in the ceiling, chipping paint, a new wet bar in the corner, a strange potted plant with purple flowers in the corner.

As her eyes assessed the room, she looked into her old yard and saw the differences there too. The same mismatched fence the bordered the rest of sanctuary now created the perimeter of her lawn. What truly drew her eyes into the yard were instead the two white posts under the tree. Peering closely she saw a low table in front of them, burnt out candles melted into the timber. A vase sat empty in the middle, one she knew was her own. Carrie stood too quickly, hand reaching out to Preston, telling him to get up.

Grabbing onto her, he let her drag him into the backyard, Carrie hobbling quickly towards the tree. Leaving the safety of Preston's grip Carrie dropped to her knees in front of the posts and clutched the grass around her. A familiar baby bottle sat beside her vase and she didn't dare to touch them. These artefacts of their lives before the bombs. Discoloured wax was moulded around the base of the bottle. Each post was the same, salvaged from the fences that once surrounded the homes of Sanctuary Hills. The grain of the wood was visible beneath the paint that barely remained after so long with no upkeep. Into each post were carved a name and age.

 

_Shaun_

_6 months_

 

_Carrie_

_25_

 

Nails ripping into dusty dirt, Carrie stared at her own memorial.  The violent sun of the wasteland beat down on her back, Prestons hand on her shoulder, as she sobbed on the ground, her only wish that Nate would hold her tight; his breath against her skin, letting her know that he would fix this. He was there. They would have their son back. But Carrie knew that for now, her chest swelling with sobs as she screamed into her hands, that this was her mistake to fix.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO sorry this took so long ya'll! November and December were insane for me and I've been distracted with working on an original piece so that took a lot of my time. I also wasn't happy with this chapter for the longest time and kept editing/rewriting it over and over. But it's finally here and I'd like to thank everyone who commented and gave kudos while I was away <3


	5. 5

Too many names.

Too many names to go over and over in her head. Too many things stuck in her head that needed her attention. Carrie could go over and over them a hundred times and more before her mind felt ready to sleep.

There were even more graves in Sanctuary as her exploration had shown. Nine, all with mounds of dirt indicating they were more than just memorials. Some had names that were readable, some too weathered. Others had small belongings in front of them too, a small wooden car, a silver locket, a vase of withered flowers.  
She wondered how many victims of this holocaust had been buried by survivors? It still felt surreal, but the more time she spent walking around her old neighbourhood, the more reality set in for Carrie. The dead trees, the irradiated river, they all seemed fantastical to her. Yet the way the new settlers of Sanctuary’s clothes hung off of them, the way everyone’s faces were just too drawn, Codsworth was too rusted at his joints; all this was what drove it into her mind that this wasn’t the same world.

As she lay in bed, grappling to find her resolve to leave the safety of her blankets one morning, for the first time she thought about her father. Where had he been when the bombs dropped? Was he safe halfway across the world from the bombs? Or was the entire world bombed to hell? Her thoughts wandered to everyone she had known. Nate’s parents. Her friends. Her boss and co-workers and all her neighbours who weren’t trapped in that vault with her. How many had died instantly? How many had suffered? Did they suffer? She hoped not. She knew she would never find the answers to all the questions in her head. Not yet.

So, she ignored them. Focused on the journey ahead of her. She wouldn’t let herself become distracted. Not while they were out there waiting for her to come and get them.

 

“Now reload it again.”

Preston’s instructions were simple enough but Carrie felt the eyes of everyone in Sanctuary watching her as she fumbled with the 10mm magazine, slotting it into place and pulling the slide back, loading the chamber.

“Unload.”

For the last few days, Preston had drilled Carrie with how to use and maintain her gun. An essential part to survival as he put it. She found that statement easy to believe with the circumstances in which the two of them had met. That awful throbbing of her heart grew worse with each day, like ice, yearning for her family to be beside her again. Focusing on her aim was a good distraction during the day, a way to not think about all her questions.

She’s staunchly refused to talk to the others about what had led her to them save a few essentials. All they had to know was she used to live here, she’d recently left her vault, and that her son and husband were missing. What they all made of that was their own business. Marcy and Sturges pressed her for answers to their questions, but Preston drove them off.  
Preston was also a damn good teacher. He had plenty of patience for her lack of ability, and even more for her inability to get used to the loud ricochet noises that rang in her ears after each shot. Both of them were pleased to see she could at least hit her desired target, most of the time, even if the bullseye was never quite hit. Together with the help of Jun, they had created a shooting range in the middle of Sanctuary’s road, aiming to the back wall of the compound. An old wooden Silver Shroud cut-out already littered with holes was her target. On stools and boxes were broken bottles and tins for extra practice. Leaning over her shoulder, Preston carefully watched her movements as she un-slotted the magazine of bullets. 

A smile of approval, “Now reload and aim for the head with two rounds.” His instructions were precise, knowing exactly what he did and didn’t want Carrie to do for her training. Her hands knew what to do now so she didn’t have to think, which is precisely what Preston told her was his aim. With the chamber loaded again she stood ready to aim. Shoulders and feet poised just so, arms with a small bend at the elbows. She aimed, peering down the scope with her right eye, safety off, before shooting twice. The first bullet skimmed the top of the wooden hat, the second embedding itself into the wood.

Sturges and Mama Murphy let out encouraging whoops for her, clapping and enjoying the entertainment value of her failures and victories in the range. Another smile from Preston as he studied the somewhat well aimed shots. “You’re picking this up well. Not many people get used to shooting so quickly.”

“Well I’m sure not many people have great teachers like you Preston,” she teased inspecting her work.

“After all my years of shooting, I’m glad to hear that,” he laughed good naturedly. It was easy to laugh with Preston. He rested his hand on her shoulder, his sign that the day was over. Flipping the safety on Carrie pocketed the pistol into the waistband of her vault suit. Too hot to wear it properly, she’d taken to having the sleeves and top tied around her waist with just her undershirt on.

They walked over to where Mama Murphy was sitting stirring the pot they’d dragged out of Rosa’s house and into the carport. Something brown and grey was bubbling away, however tonight’s stew smelt good. Carrie still couldn’t remove the taste from her tongue of Sturges’ radroach “curry”, a stomach-turning concoction of oversized cockroach, any plant he could get his hands on, with Yum-Yum devilled eggs thrown in for her sake. If someone had told her as a child, that she would be sitting her over 200 years in the future eating cockroaches in stews… well she doesn’t even know what she would have thought; she doesn’t even know what she thinks now other than that she tries her best to avoid any wasteland game. Sticking to her preserved food was her preference for now. As though reading her mind, a Salisbury steak was thrown her way by Sturges, offering her only a wink before turning back to the stew. The card package was torn, barely readable with all its wear. Inside the steak looked plastic but it was better than anything the Commonwealth offered her.

Preston stood quickly, hands gripping his laser musket tighter, raising it to sight the target that he’d spotted approaching. He called out a warning to a couple that were walking down the road towards their perimeter. The women had their guns raised, but didn’t shoot. “This is a Minutemen settlement! State your business!”  
The two women lowered their own pistols, sharing a glance, before stowing them away. “We’re traders passing through from Abernathy Farm over the river! Got asked to come see who’d come back to Sanctuary. Glad to hear it’s the Minutemen. Thought you’d all gone,” called the taller woman. She pulled a shopping cart behind her with a rope. The other, younger, stood nervously watching their turrets rumble.

“Well we’re still here. What can we help y’all with today, we ain’t got much for tradin’,” Sturges announced as he stood, waving the women in. “We can offer a hot meal and some time off your feet though.”

The eldest laughed. “We’d appreciate that. Ain’t had much luck with trading these past few weeks. Crops not yielding enough for people to part with their caps.”  
Everyone gathered around the fire and pot making introductions. Ann and Jane were moving north slowly but surely, passing from farm to farm. As they sat, clinging tightly to the warm bowls of food being dished out by Mama Murphy, the chatter turned to anything and everything. Carrie couldn’t make any which way with it, not understanding what the punchlines to jokes were about, nor why they would be funny at all.

It suddenly reminded her of Nate. The way his jokes had changed after his last tour. No longer silly puns about things she understood, but jokes about ‘reds’. He could bring her to tears with the jokes he told when they met. She hadn’t laughed at his new jokes, so he’d stopped joking altogether. Now… she would take even those awful macabre jokes over not hearing his voice. The ice that clung to her ribs froze her breath as she thought.   
What was she meant to do with one pistol and a man who was already obligated to help four other people? Her husband missing from home 200 years in the future and her son kidnapped by a murdering psychopath. Her hands shook as they flipped between tabs on her pipboy, reading everything on the screens to distract herself; but that fuckers face kept floating in her mind. It was easy to imagine it; the scar running down his face, over his eye. If there were still a police department to report the crime too, she would be a sketch artists dream witness. She snorted at her own stupid joke.

Jane came and sat beside her, bowl no longer in hand and eyeing her pip-boy like a child looks at sweets; obviously trying to start a conversation. Carrie tried to guess her age, maybe her early twenties, but the dirt that clung to the woman’s face could be concealing or adding to her actual age. Looking closely, she could see the faint lines around her face and mouth were filled with fine dirt from the lack of a wash for some time. Even here in Sanctuary where they had two pumps and a purifier, baths were somewhat of a luxury. Carrie doubted there were too many hot showers going around in the Commonwealth these days.

“So, you’re from a vault, yeah? The blue suit is a give-away,” an obvious statement was her opener. It felt awkward making small talk about the vault. Even from the carport it was easy to see where that crypt was.

Nodding, Carrie stared back at the black screen on her wrist. “I was.”

Jane’s eyes had followed hers to the hill, curiously staring. “Well at least it’s close-by. Were you born there?” She leaned forward to Carrie. 

“No.”

“Oh. You must have grown up there at least? You’ve got a funny accent, nothing I’ve heard in the Commonwealth before.”

Carrie let out an audible snort. “I didn’t grow up in the vault, I only spent a bit of time there before leaving.”

“Why’d you leave?”

Her eyebrows creased. “My son was taken from the vault. I’m looking for him.”

“Oh… I’m- uh- I’m really sorry for asking,” they fell into an awkward silence as everyone else laughed at a joke. Carrie got up to leave, feeling that ache grow heavier, when Jane grabbed the sleeve of her arm. “Do you know who did it?” Jerking her arm away, she shook her head. “You don’t think it could’ve been the Institute? They were always taking people-““Jane!” Ann pulled the girl onto her feet causing everyone to startle. “Excuse her, she should know better.” The two women walked away to the wall, Ann still berating Jane. The settlers of Sanctuary all stared at the confrontation before looking back to Carrie. She stared back at them before trudging off to her house, leaving behind her meal and the stares. 

Why had she even entertained the idea of talking to this girl about Shaun? Now she felt like a child caught up in an adults’ argument. Codsworth tottered around in the kitchen but kept his distance upon seeing her scowl. She averted her eyes away from the draping bed sheet hanging across the back window, strung up to block her premature grave from sight. Sitting on the couch, Carrie tried to rub the headache between her eyes away, willing herself to get up from her spot and get some sleep.

For what though? Another day of shooting practice? Another day without her boys with her? She kicked the ottoman in front of her, heat boiling in her chest, fists curling at her temples. Stuck here in her unrecognisable home. It felt like she was going around in circles. Feel sad, feel angry, feel sad, feel angry; rinse and repeat. And what was she doing exactly? Lashing out like a child. Any moment she expected to have things go back to normal, for the world to sort itself out.

Codsworth hovered closer holding a cup in his grip. “A cup of coffee for you mum? To settle the nerves.”

It took her a moment to respond. “Thanks Codsworth…”

He offered a quip before dithering off again.

Halfway through her drink, there was a knock on the doorframe into the house, Preston silhouetted against the lantern hanging outside. She waved him in and he sat himself down beside her on the couch. He handed her the abandoned Salisbury steak. A long sigh escaped him as he sank into the worn cushions, Codsworth bringing him a mug as well. Preston took it gratefully as he stared at the dead television in front of him. 

“Those two will be out of here by the morning. Ann apologises for Jane’s behaviour. Are you okay Carrie?” 

“Honestly, I don’t know Preston. I’ve got no clue as to where my son is or who he’s with!” Her gusts curled into balls on her thighs, scrunching up the blue material. “I just feel bloody useless! I don’t know what I’m doing here! I don’t know where my husband is! This is all WRONG!”

She was screaming by the end, tears finally breaking through her dam. It was that glowing, white hot anger that fuelled them. This wasn’t meant to be her life. 

The steady weight of Preston’s hand on her shoulder calmed her down. In his eyes she saw no judgement or fake sympathy, just understanding.

“It’s okay to be angry you know. Be angry, but don’t push it down until it gets to you,” his words held a wisdom to them that made her chest clench yet again. “I… get what it’s like to feel that everything is outside of your control, that nothing is working out like it should. But we can work on that together you know?”

Carrie found herself nodding, she’d placed this much trust in him, she could add a little more.

“I’ve got an idea if you’re up for an adventure? Ann said a settlement nearby are asking for help with a raiding gang. I was going to head out tomorrow morning, it’s not too far. Everyone is set up here, it’s secure and safe. Everyone’s got a bed and food on their plates so why not share that sort of safety around?”

There was a conviction in his eyes that Carrie had never seen before the war. Something forged by surviving in these wastes and a firm belief. She was nodding before she’d even stopped to think. Preston lit up, a grin shining on his face. 

He stood up, helping her off the couch. “We can get the supplies ready now and make for an early start on the road tomorrow morning. Let’s just hope it ain’t raining.”

 

Mist lay over the ground, slowly being fought away by the shining beams of the sun rising in the east. Carrie pulled the cap lower on her head, tucking flyway’s into the hat. She had on her suit, zipped up tightly and with a few pieces of ill-fitting leather armour strapped to her arms and legs, her pack filled with water and ammo for anything to come. Sturges was sleepily ready to wave them off. Codsworth fussed and prodded his little plot of farm land after being shooed off by Carrie for fussing and prodding at her for a little too long for her nerves to handle. Her hands fiddled with the holster on her waist again, ensuring that her pistol was still there, her switchblade tucked snuggly onto her boot for emergencies. Nerves bubbled and danced in her chest as she watched the road ahead of her, a few crows squawking and watching her right back.

The crunch of boots alerted her to Preston’s presence before he spoke. “Are you ready for your second dose of the Commonwealth?”

Carrie swallowed the doubtful words wishing to spill from her lips, trying her best not to look shaken. “No better time for it than the present.”

He nodded to her before beginning his walk out the gates. Carrie took her first step towards Diamond City and finally felt something akin to progress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the awesome comments lately! And thank you for sticking by me with my horrible update timing. Just got a new job which has been taking a lot of time, plus with university. I found myself in a really bad rut with the last two chapters, trying to get them going so I focused on some later chapters and other projects till I could dedicate time to this chapter. 
> 
> You may have noticed I've added this into a series too! I've got some one shots I have planned out that focus on some earlier aspects of Carrie and Nate's relationship but I won't post those for awhile (not until a certain someone is back in the picture).
> 
> And before anyone says anything, I'm sorry that Nate still isn't home! He'll get there (eventually ;-; )

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first thing I’ve published in ages, so I’d love to know what you thought. Cheers!


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